Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 49

Viens chez moi te mettre à l’abri, on ira sous les draps écouter la pluie*.
— Mon Paradis, Christophe Maé

They decided to have a race back to the apartment. Aimee was ahead, but Thomas caught up with her and grabbed her hand, and they ran together, and arrived together, drenched and out of breath but happier than ever.

“Aimee…” Thomas muttered as he held the door open for her. She turned to face him.
“Yes, Thomas?”
“Thank you,” he whispered.

*Come to my place and put yourself under the cover, we’ll snuggle under the sheets and listen to the rain.

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